“Papa,” she said, “I have just been acquainting Captain Standish with your determination to leave England.”
“Not immediately, I hope?” said the young man.
“Yes, immediately,” replied Don Fortunio. “I long to get back to Spain. If you like this constant fighting, I don’t. Besides, I have very grave apprehensions for the future. Is it treasonable to say you will not long have a king in England? Such is my conviction.”
“You are wrong, sir,” said Standish. “These rebels will be crushed. We have begun the work to-day, and shall not stop till it is ended.”
“I fear you will find it a harder task than you imagine,” said Don Fortunio.
“Hear what the Earl of Derby has to say,” rejoined Standish.
“If he will allow the countess and his children to remain here, I will postpone my departure,” said Don Fortunio. “Not otherwise.”
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VIII
Again on the Eagle Tower
BRIGHT and sunshiny was the day, and Lathom House had an air of cheerfulness such as it had not worn for months.
Above the Eagle Tower floated the broad banner that had never been lowered during the siege—meet emblem of the heroic lady who had placed it there. The tower itself bore marks of the enemy’s shot, but still rose proudly and firmly as ever. The castle walls, however, were terribly battered. Huge pieces had been knocked out of the masonry, deep holes made by shot, battlements and turrets broken—but not a single enemy had set foot on the ramparts during the long duration of the Leaguer.
But it was beyond the fosse, and in the enemy’s own works, that the evidences of destruction were most apparent. In those partly demolished batteries and half-filled trenches could be seen the tremendous preparations made, and how useless they had proved. The exulting musketeers laughed and jested as they looked at them from the walls, and talked over their own exploits. “There stood the sconce that held the great mortar that was to crush us all,” said one. “Where is that bulwark now? Lathom House still stands—but the beleaguering army is gone.”
“Utterly destroyed,” observed another. “But we have got their cannon, their mortar, and their colours.”
It was not surprising that the soldiers engaged in that long siege should rejoice. Their courage had never failed them, but they might have been forced by famine to surrender—or have perished in the burning stronghold fired by the hand of the countess. All this was over now, and they felt as men feel when a great task—almost beyond their powers—is accomplished. They had done their duty, and done it well. To their thinking no pleasanter sight could be seen on that bright morning than was afforded by those half-demolished batteries.
To the brave officers who had assisted in the defence of the castle, who had shrunk from no danger, but were always ready to sally forth upon the enemy—the sight was equally agreeable, as the ruined fortifications bore testimony to their valour.
But all within the fortress rejoiced on that auspicious morning—the countess herself, her children, her chaplains, her guests, her household. Never for a moment had the heroic lady shrunk from the difficult task she had undertaken. Never at seasons of the greatest peril—when ponderous shot and stones had been cast upon her roofs, and fiery missiles and death-scattering shells had been thrown into her courts—not even when a leaden messenger of destruction had burst into her own chamber, had her stout heart failed her. Never doubting the justice of her cause, but relying entirely on Heaven’s protection, she had awaited with confidence the issue of the long struggle.
At length, her loyalty and devotion to the royal cause were amply rewarded. Deliverance came—the insolent rebels were punished.
Such were the heroic lady’s feelings on that morning—feelings that prompted her to return thanks to Heaven for its mercies and protection.
Two persons were on the summit of the Eagle Tower gazing around.
One of them, a lovely damsel, with dark lustrous eyes and a Southern skin, was listening with deep interest to her companion who was describing some of the principal incidents of the siege, and pointing out the localities to her.